Cowboys and Angels
by GeeksUnited
Summary: Because of the wedding planning for Fleur and Bill, the Burrow has been mostly empty except for Harry and Ginny. Consequently, Harry and Ginny spend much time alone...


**Disclaimer:** All the characters in this fic are purely the property of the Goddess of Deception, J.K. Rowling. I just like playing around with them a bit. ;P And the lyrics to "Cowboys and Angels" are all George Michael's. I'm merely a fan.

**A/N:** This is a song fic to George Michael's AMAZING jazz song "Cowboys and Angels" I was thouroghly inspired one day while hearing it, and this is the result... enjoy.

**Chapter One: Potatoes and Valentines**

_When your heart's in someone elses hands_

_Monkey see and monkey do_

_Their wish is your command_

Harry peeked over his book, across the living room of the Burrow, and let his eyes feast on the only girl born to the Weasley clan for generations. She was sitting in an overstuffed armchair, reading as well, with her legs tucked under her. She wore a white, knee-length sundress with gold embroidery that accented the golden highlights in her hair brought out by the sun from a nearby open window. Those fiery red locks spilled over milky-white shoulders... in Harry's opinion, the 15 year old girl looked positively beautiful. But no, he couldn't put her in danger.

Suddenly, she closed her book and stretched. Harry quickly glanced back at his copy of _Defence: The **Ultimate** Guide_, fighting the blush that was threatening to flush his face.

"Oi, Harry. Care to help me with dinner? Mum and Dad should be back soon with Ron and Hermione."

Harry cleared his throat. "Er, yeah. Of course." He got up and followed Ginny into the kitchen.

They'd been out of school for a week. Harry had decided to go to start his "Search for the Truth", as Ron and Hermione liked to call it, after Bill and Fleur's wedding. Meanwhile, he was living at the Burrow. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were busy trying to prepare everything and Hermione had vollunteered hers and Ron's help. Therefore, Ginny and Harry had spent the most part of the last few days alone at the Burrow. It was torture for Harry. He missed those happy hours by the Black Lake with Ginny, and now deeply regreted breaking it off at the end of the last school year. Ginny had been unbearably normal twards him since the end of their relationship. Nevertheless, Harry thought he saw a twinkle in her eye every now and then.

_You're not to blame_

_Everyone's the same_

Harry went in the cupboard and got out some potatoes, took them over to the sink, and cast a peeling charm on them. The good thing about the war and chaos was that the Ministry wouldn't fuss over such a petty matter like underage magic.

"_Aguamenti,_" he heard Ginny say. And a jet of water shot out of her wand into a waiting cauldron. The next few moments passed in silence, save for the sound of the peels flying off of the potatoes and the water reaching a boil.

_All you do is love and love is all you do_

Ginny sat down at the scrubbed kitchen table. The potatoes were boiling, the meat was roasting, and the table was setting itself under the supervision of the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the midget in glasses, or whatever the Daily Prophet was calling him these days. She looked on the face of good for the millionth time that day: black hair tousled, as always; round glasses, too small for him now; and 'eyes as green as a fresh pickled toad'. She snorted at the memory of that disasterous Valentine and the eyes glanced at her, curious. The very eyes she had fallen in love with the moment she'd glimpsed them.

"What's up?" Harry asked. Ginny smiled.

"Nothing. Just... memories."

"Care to say which ones?" Harry sat down beside her. Oh, gods. It should be illegal for him to be that close to her. She had been silently suffering ever since Harry 'broke up' with her a week before. But she couldn't let him know that! She was a woman of pride, after all. She would make him come to her, not the other way around. She'd tried _that_ once, and that was the whole reason for the Valentine incident in the first place.

_I should know by now, the way I fought for you_

"No," she said flatly; forcing her face into a mask of calm. She got up and went to stir the potatoes. There. A bit of distance was all she needed to compose herself. She hated this. Being so close to him, yet so far. But alas. Her mother had taught her that women should know their dignity. Wasn't that what had won her Harry in the first place? After she started dating other boys, Harry had come to _her_.

The back door's knob turned.

"Shut up Ronald, just shut up!" Hermione's loud voice pierced the tense silence. Ginny cringed. Not again... Harry on the other hand, didn't even look up. _Seems like he's way too used to their bickering_, Ginny thought.

"I don't care about what shade of white matches with which shade of blue, Hermione! I don't know why you dragged me into this whole wedding thing! Let Mum do it with Fleur! _We_ should be trying to help Harry with the -- Oh, hey Ginny." Ron turned a deep shade of scarlet.

Ginny turned her head to Ron so fast that her neck cracked. "Ow!" She rubbed her sore neck. "Help Harry with what?"

Ginny was amazed Ron ws still alive with the looks Harry and Hermione were giving him.

"Ron," said Harry, " can you help me with something upstairs?"

"Yeah," repiled a now sheepish Ron. He grabbed some packages from Hermione's arms. "You'd better come and tell me where to out these, Hermione."

"I am," Hermione replied coldly, still staring daggers at him.

Ginny wiped her hands on a towel and turned to the trio. "I could help," she said as the three older teens walked twards the stairs.

"NO," They said in unison. Harry paused at the threshold to the kitchen.

"Just... start cleaning up a bit, Gin," said Harry. "I'll be right down." He smiled at her and then quickly covered the distance between the kitchen and the stairwell. Oh, that smile...

"Sure," Ginny managed to call after him.

She turned back to the potatoes, which were done, and began draining them.

_You're not to blame_

_Everyone's the same_

**A/N:** Well? What'd you think? Reviews are appreciated. hint, hint


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